The Untold Story of the Avian Americans
by Stone-and-Tempest
Summary: This is about the two bird kids in cages at the Institute at the end of the first book. The one that talks in 'The Angel Experiment' is Stone. Tempest was the one asleep. This is their adventures and misadventures after their escape. Enjoy!
1. Stone

**~Stone~**

I sat bolt upright, jarred from sleep. Had I been dreaming? No, there it went again:

_Crack!_

"Tempest!" I hissed, nudging her side with my foot, trying not to move too much.

Her eyes flew open, but she did not move. We'd both learned to keep still in emergency situations. "What is it?" she hissed.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. A voice rumbled out of my mouth, deep and gravely:

"Are you sure these coordinates are correct, Mr. Cow?" (Mr. Cow? That couldn't be right.)

Another voice, smoother and with a heavy Korean accent: "Ya, I sure dey is, Meester Director."

"Good," Mr. Director rumbled. "I knew we could trust Jeb Batchelder. He's already got the other mutants captured; soon we will have the full set."

Mr. Cow cackled, his --- I mean, my --- voice ringing through the woods.

I stopped listening and jumped to my feet. Tempest rose and packed our backpacks. We set off on foot through the woods, ears alert, for every sound could mean danger.

Suddenly, we heard them. Hounds. The bloodthirsty kind from the Institute. They burst from the underbrush on all sides, howling madly. Cursing, I jumped, straight into the air. At the height of my jump, massive, sixteen-foot wide wings unfurled from my back. Pump up, pump down, up, down . . . and I was airborne again. God, it felt _so_ good.

I glanced sideways at Tempest, her dark wings barely moving as we glided on an updraft, her blood red eyes glowing out of the darkness like the lights of Las Vegas. (Yes, I've been there. Surprise!)

Tempest asked, "Any idea where to go?"

I shrugged as well as possible while flying. "Fly until I can't hear those goons anymore I guess." Not that I'm bragging or anything, but I like to call myself the leader when I'm alone. I'm always making suggestions, answering, not asking questions, _and,_ to be _really_ self-centered, I'm the calm, rational one of the two of us. Not that I actually _am_ calm and rational, oh no. But _Tempest?_ Her name just _screams_ crazy, uncontrollable, and hotheaded. Her in a nutshell.

I just hope she never finds out about my secret indulgence, or the fact that her backpack is heavier than it used to be because I stored every David Archuleta poster I could get my hands on in there, 'cause there's no more room in mine. She doesn't know that I'm suddenly boy crazy.

_Ehem._

I swooped beneath her, feeling the wind in my face, clearing the cobwebs of the mundane world. Ah, the psychotic poetry of a mutant teenager.

"Who is Jeb Batchelder?" we both asked at the same time. It's amazing how in tune we are sometimes.

I frowned. I knew that name. Was he part of the Institute, or the School? Then it hit me:

"Tempest! Jeb Batchelder was with those other bird kids at the Institute, remember? The leader one, Max, didn't like him --- he's got the other bird kids!" Yes, in case you're wondering, it is, in fact, entirely possible to jump a foot in the air while, well, already _in_ the air. "Jeb's the reason we have wings! Remember? He forged our parents' signatures when we were born so that the Institute and School could have us!"

Tempest gaped at me. "I want to get inside your head for a day."

"Nah, you wouldn't. You'd come out babbling and drooling," I said casually, tilting downward at a lazy 35-degree angle. "I can't hear Mr. Director and Mr. Cow anymore. Let's land." Mr. Cow? I _still_ didn't think that was right.

We landed in an abandoned playground in Perfectly Nowhere, USA. Tempest and I inhaled the last Snickers bars we had been able to, well, _acquire,_ and I took first watch, like a good leader.

Yikes, forget I said that.

Being on watch is boring unless someone attacks you. Then things get interesting. But when everything's quiet and hunky dory, man, it's all I can do not to fall asleep.

I woke Tempest when it was her turn, and I was asleep before I had even lay down.

But that didn't last long. Because this is _my_ life we're talking about, right?


	2. Tempest

**~Tempest~**

Stone woke me up for second watch, as per usual. It was our personal routine; had been for I don't know how long. We had broken out, what, about four-five years ago? Just the two of us. No one really noticed, until last year when they captured us. But we escaped. Obviously.

My (awesome) blood red eyes scanned out makeshift campsite: no tents (Obviously, I mean people are actually coming after us. Duh!), a small fire, food, iPods (_acquired _as well), and Stone sprawled out on the ground, snoring quietly and just a tad bit of drool. I snickered at the sight.

Then I froze. There was a shift in the breeze and I caught a scent. (We think they put cat DNA in me cause of my extreme sense of smell, balance, and my abnormally claw-like fingers.) I crinkled my nose. It was metallic… and humanish? My (currently) long black-and-purple hair (Don't ask.) flew in the breeze as I faced the woods.

_STONE!!!! Wake up!_ I yelled mentally. _Got some company coming. Not sure what, though._

She got up and we got in our fighting stances. Well, I did anyways. Stone was just…Stone. See, she can do this thing where she can expand her molecules or whatever and becomes a ghost, per say. (Except she's not dead and isn't see through but stuff can go through her.) I quickly changed my hair to short and spiky so it wouldn't get in the way.

Not a minute later, the thing barged in and we attacked. She flew up as my round-house kick knocked its human-like head out of joint. Then I swept its feet out from under it. Stone condensed in mid-air to be the weight of an anvil or something and dropped -feet first- on to it. To put it simply, there was a huge dent and, after we added a mini-dynamite stick (Again, don't ask.), we watched some "fireworks". That was definitely one of the weirdest things ever. Obviously, it was a robot but it seemed…humanish. Hmmm…. Anyways, I began the mental countdown.

5….

4….

3….

2….

1….

"What the HECK was that?"

Just a heads up: she is not calm. At all. Albeit, she is calmer than me…except in certain situations. (Like a David Archuleta concert, for example….or a poster of him.)

I shrugged. "Honestly, no idea Stone."

Insert devious-and-deranged smirk here. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Hmmmm…. Maybe. Does it involve dynamite, chocolate, a stealth-like mission, whipped cream, possible-near capture experiences, cherries, lots of flying, and danger?"

Pause. "Yep!"

We bust our guts laughing. Hey, we're not serious all the time. Just when there's normal people around… And when we're in danger, but sometimes even that's a little if-y.


	3. Pancakes and Lamborghinis

PANCAKES AND LAMBORGHINIS

Half an hour later, Tempest and I had our whipped cream, cherries (though I went for strawberries), and chocolate. International House of Pancakes baby! Check, check, check. Flying? Check!

The waitress came up to us, her puke-worthy pink uniform all clean and crisp. "Can you pay for all that?" she asked in a drawling southern accent, waving our check in our faces.

I snapped, "Would we have ordered food if we couldn't pay for it?" pulling out some cash. I didn't pull out the whole wad though, because, well, the whole wad was over $15,000. I can pass through things, people. ATMs don't stand a chance.

Same with Tempest. She's telekinetic, meaning she can move objects with her mind. Again, ATMs are going down. They seriously need better security systems. Strike that; we need money. Some say stealing; I say survival.

The waitress pursed her lips, looking like a wrinkled old snapping turtle. But, she took the cash. Probably because Tempest was glaring at her. Red eyes, plus Tempest's aura . . . scary. I hate it when we fight. Yes, we argue. With _dynamite_. (Don't ask.)

My neck always cramps up when I condense too quickly in a battle, so I turned to pop my neck. Strange how such a simple action can have such dire consequences.

Six burly men. Black suits. Booth behind ours. And a body temperature scanner from the School. Our body temperatures are higher than humans'. Need I say more?

_Ready for the 'near-death experience' part? _ I asked silently. Tempest followed my gaze and then silently met mine.

_Bring it._

Casually, we got up from the booth. Even with our backs to the suit dudes, I felt the scanner. My spine tingled. Gosh, there is _nothing_ worse than that feeling.

We turned the corner, and all heck broke loose. Two guys tried to head us off, but _get real_. Tempest simply told a table to stop one, and I walked right through the other one.

Amateurs.

We tore out the front door, and I was nearly blinded by the sunlight, which is maybe why I chose a cherry red Lamborghini as our getaway car. I reached behind me as I ran, grabbing my screwdriver out of my backpack. Tempest unlocked the doors with her mind while I stuck my head and torso into the hood and worked the starter. I won't go into details here. That's all we need, car thefts across America!

The car roared to life and I pulled out, shocked and excited at the power that grumbled in such a sleek car. (What I want to know is why a Lamborghini was in the parking lot of an _IHOP_!)

The suited dudes were almost on top of us when I jumped inside and slammed the car into reverse.

There is something disturbingly cheery about hearing a burly dude in a suit squeal like a little girl when a sports car runs over his foot.

We tore into traffic, earning ourselves a deafening chorus of honking horns and colorful cuss words. Two black sedans followed, swerving all over the place.

Tempest looked at me as I roared past an eighteen-wheeler at eighty miles an hour. She made a blowing up motion with her fingers, and motioned to the vans.

I winced a little, but snapped, "Do it! And next time, remind me to chose a less noticeable car!"

She grinned evilly and flicked her fingers out the back window. I heard the sound of eight tires blowing in unison and brakes squealing, and dared a peek in the rearview mirror. Both vans straddled the median, tires in shreds, windshields cracked.

We looked at each other, and slapped a high five.

We left the Lamborghini in an old park, between the swing sets and the seesaw. "Sweet ride," I mumbled, wiping our fingerprints off.

"Remind me again why _I_ don't drive?" Tempest asked, checking the gas gauge.

"Because I look older, and, at first glance, I _look_ like a safe driver. _You_, on the other hand, attract unwanted attention like honey attracts ants."

"Just checking." Fingerprints gone, Tempest headed over to our crumpled backpacks, but I stayed rooted to the spot.

"Tempest . . . we should leave a note. Without leaving fingerprints."

Grumbling, she maneuvered the space pen (stop asking) over a piece of notebook paper Tempest retrieved with her skill. The note read:

_Sweet car. Thanks!_

_Needs gas._

Then I stored the laptop in my backpack, and tried not to giggle as Tempest unknowingly shouldered my poster collection. I snatched my iPod out before she could zip the pack.

"Let's go," I said, securing the iPod (the one thing I hadn't seen a need for when we acquired them) and turning on David Archuleta. I may dress gothic and emo, but I only wear black so that my questionable hygiene won't stick out so much. I'm almost preppy at heart. In fact, I'm looking for a change. Maybe Tempest can change my hair and give it blue streaks, eh?

Near-death experience? Check. Danger? Check.

We flew north, singing along to our iPods off-key. Hey, I can't sing when "Desperate" comes on. That song is like, my theme song.

"Wonder what it's like to be normal?" Tempest and I asked simultaneously. Mental telepathy again.

We hug as best as possible while staying aloft. We may have sixteen-foot wings, cool powers, and all the stuff that comes with being a mutant freak, but all we've ever wanted are parents and friends. To be normal.

To keep my mind off of such morbid subjects, I glanced down, enjoying the Kentucky scenery. Bushes, shiny cars, terrified boy tearing down the sidewalk, humanish robot geeks with guns, old man outside watering his lawn . . .

Wait. _Guns?_

I got Tempest's attention and pointed downward at the poor kid that was losing ground with every stride.

"Stone, no . . ." Tempest was glaring. Too bad I was immune for the moment.

"Tempest, either I go alone, or you come with me. Choose wisely."

She clenched her jaw angrily, but I'd already pinpointed a good landing spot and angled downward. I landed, threw on my windbreaker, and dashed into the alley, adrenaline flooding my body.

The poor kid had run into a dead end, and had sunk to the ground in fright as the robots approached him. I went into action. It was just me and the power I wielded.

"HEE-YAH!" I roundhoused the first metal geek (M-Geek!) and sent him flying into the side of an old mill in a shower of sparks. Ouch!

I turned to the other two, but Tempest had already dispatched one, and we made short work of the other. Panting, I rushed over to the teen, who was still huddled in the same fetal position.

"You okay?" I asked, kneeling down beside him.

He looked at me like he'd never seen a girl before. "I . . . guess so," he mumbled, flexing his wrists. "How did you do that? Normal teenage girls can't take down three M-Geeks and live."

I shrugged, face shutting down like it always does when I'm about to twist the truth. "We _aren't_ normal." (Ya think?) I hauled the kid to his feet and asked, "Who are you? I'm . . . Emma. Emma Stone."

Tempest answered, albeit grudgingly, "I'm Amethyst T. Spartan."

_Amethyst? Really?_ I asked incredulously.

Tempest didn't answer, but I got an image of her eyes rolling, so I could guess her thoughts as easily as if she had spoken them.

"I'm Chad Myers." For the first time, I got a good look at the kid. He wasn't so much a kid after all, around our age I suppose. Sandy brown hair, tall, eyes that were somewhere between green and golden hazel. I shook his hand, and, okay, I was blushing. Honestly though, can you blame me? The first creature, human or otherwise, that I hadn't had to kill happened to be attractive.

_Stone, you're drooling._

I snapped back to reality and, in my flustered state, asked, "Why were those weirdoes after you anyway?"

Chad's face shut down. I knew that look. I wore it all too often. I was about to tell him to forget it, but:

"I'm supposed to do a job for them. I don't want to. I'm not a kidnapper, but Mr. Jeb . . . he said that it would be for the good of all mankind. The poor girls can't help it if they have wings. Why should I keep them prisoner? I know I'm not making very much sense but . . ."

I sucked in my breath sharply. "Jeb Batchelder?" Tempest and I asked.

Chad's head swiveled to look at both of us, disbelief spreading across his face. "Yes . . . but how do you know him."

Tempest would murder me later for this, but I trusted Chad. He didn't want to hurt us. I just knew it. Taking a deep breath, ready to attack if he decided to take us hostage anyway, I answered, "We're the ones you're looking for." I shrugged off my windbreaker and unfurled my sixteen-foot wide gray and black wings.


	4. Of Wings and a Normal Human

**Of Wings**

**And**

**A Normal Human**

I glared at Stone. What was she doing, showing her wings to a normal human? Especially one that admitted to being sent by Jeb to catch us. (Now I see why that Max one didn't like—or trust –him.)

_Stone!_ She looked at me, apparently still immune to my glare. _What are you doing? Why are you showing him your wings?_

_ Didn't you hear him? He said he didn't really want to catch us._

_ But he's working for the enemy! _ I deepened my glare as I crossed my arms.

_He was forced to Tempest! _I could hear her exasperation.

_That doesn't make any difference!_

_ Look Tempest, _she sighed. _Just show him your wings. I already showed him mine._

_ No. _I sent an if-looks-could-kill-you'd-be-dead glare.

She smirked, her I'm-pulling-out-the-big-guns smirk. _If you don't, I'll keep all the dynamite to myself and you won't be able to use it. ANY of it._

My eyes narrowed. _ You wouldn't._

_ Yes. I would. Besides, my bag is the one that holds ALL of the dynamite._

I growled mentally. _ Fine._

Sulking and mumbling under my breath (It's for the best that what I said should not be repeated. Trust me.) I unfurled my onyx wings, which are a few inches larger than hers. To be precise our wingspan is roughly sixteen feet. We figured that our wings are larger than the Flock's because 1) we're older than the three oldest by two or so years and 2) because I'm part Andean Condor (the largest flying bird in the world) and Stone is part Condor (the second largest).

_Happy?_ I mentally ground out.

_Yep! _Then she smiled that big, overly cheerful, cheesy smile.

My left eye twitched. It's creepy how she can be so dang cheerful when I get so stinkin' mad at her, considering the facts that I have red eyes and a tendency to go on destructive rampages when I get really, really mad.

The guy, Chad, gawked at us. As expected. I closed up my wings and leaned against one of the alley walls.

"So, what does Jeb want with us?" I asked none too nicely.

My statement woke him from his trance. "Huh?"

I sighed. "Why did Jeb send you after us?"

_Tempest, we already have info about that!_

_I know but I want to get more info from Jeb's minion._

I liked how the word 'minion' sounded and it my word of the day or whatever it's called.

…_Fine._

The dude shrugged. "I don't know. They didn't tell me."

_They?!_ Stone and I thought to each other simultaneously. We looked at each other. Wow, we were really in tune today.

"They?" Stone asked. "Who's 'they'?"

Chad paused. "Uh, some really powerful guy called something like 'director,' Jeb, and some Korean guy named 'Cow' or whatever."

Now it was our turn to gawk.

"WHAT?!" we both yelled.

We looked at each other. Again with the creepy being in tune thing.


	5. I wanna Know You

**I WANNA **

**KNOW **

**YOU**

**~Stone~**

And not just because of what Chad had said. We, with our super-raptor hearing, heard something he probably didn't. Clanking. It sounded like dozens of cookie sheets being dropped at the same time.

"Go!" Chad hissed urgently. "There's too many for you to fight!" So he _did_ hear them.

I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it again. He was right. And I hated it. Tempest and I ran down the alley and took to the air, wings spreading wide. Tempest headed away, but I swooped back down to Chad, flapping just high enough that I didn't whack my wings against the ground.

"Try to stay safe, okay?" I told him jokingly. "I didn't save your butt just for you to get back in trouble!"

He reached up to shake my hand, his gorgeous eyes smiling. "Will do, _Stone._"

I was trying to comprehend the fact that Tempest's and mine's fake names were useless when our hands touched. I felt an icy/hot tingle race through my body, and suddenly Chad was floating beside me, getting walloped in the gut by my wings! I quickly adjusted them so they would pass through him, but keep us aloft.

Tempest and Chad stared. I grinned. "I think I just developed a new skill!" I crowed, soaring upwards and away. It soon became apparent that sweaty hands and flying don't mix. Knowing it would give me a booming headache later, I half-solidified my fingers around Chad's, eliminating the possibility of slippage.

I had no idea where we were going, but I didn't care, and no one seemed to be pursuing us. It seemed like a fabulous dream that we were safe, fairly healthy, and flying west, a feat so many normal humans would give anything to achieve, and we were, quite literally, born to do it.

We made good time too, reaching mid-Texas before sunset. Chad was slowly losing the grayish-green cast his skin had taken on when Tempest and I got bored and started playing Free-Fall.

Speaking of which . . .

I glanced over at Tempest and she grinned back wickedly. We both ceased flapping, hovering for a moment on an updraft. Then we dropped down through the cloud, belly first. An aerial belly flop. Chad was screaming like a girl, mouth flapping in the rushing wind. I forced my mouth to stay closed as we gathered speed after plummeting through the clouds.

In perfect unison, Tempest and I resumed flapping. Chad wiped his sweaty brow with his free hand and gasped, "_What_ is so fun about that?"

I answered simply, "Whether I fly or not is in my control. My life, for so long, wasn't. Plus, Free-Falling is _way_ better than any ride at Disney World."

We soared upwards again. After we passed through a cloud, Chad asked quietly, "Why did you take me with you? You could have just dropped me. I'm working for the enemy, remember?"

I shrugged, feeling my face heat up. "But you're not working for them willingly. Beside trust you somehow. I wasn't just going to let you get pummeled by an army of M-Geeks now was I?" I smiled at him and he smiled back. Something clicked. I can't say what it was, but it both excited me and freaked me out. My concentration slipped and Chad wheezed as one of my wings walloped him again.

Chad coughed and then said, "Wel thanks Stone. I'm glad we get to talk. I wanna know you. The real you. All I know is from files I managed to break into."

_OMG he wants to know the real me!_ I shrieked inwardly, feeling my face flush. Suddenly, my heartbeat throbbed in my ears and I gasped.

My headache had arrived full force, pounding so hard behind my eyeballs I was sure they would pop out and splatter some poor schmuck below. I moaned quietly, seeing red flashes. Tempest picked up on my suffering and began scouting the ground for a landing spot.

We landed in a wooded clearing and I instantly collapsed, cold sweat soaking through my shirt, my head pounding so badly I couldn't hear. I heard voices, both familiar and strange all around me, even a slight Korean accent . . .

I painfully screwed open my eyes and saw a white cloth coming towards my head. But my head pounded again, my vision went black, and I passed out.


	6. Back Again

**Back**

**Again**

**~Tempest~**

We landed in a small clearing. Stone sat down 'cause of her headache and then **BAM!** Forty guns were pointed at us. I got ready to fight, but someone grabbed and twisted my arms at what I used to think was an impossible angle. The result was severe pain and a sickening crack. Great, a broken arm. Well, nothing eight hours won't fix.

A cloth was pressed against my face but I didn't fight it. Last time that happened, I woke up with lots of bruises and seven broken bones. Through my hazy vision I saw Stone trying to fight it off. Before I passed out, I noticed that Chad disappeared.

Ugh. I hate chloroform. And whitecoats. No. Wait. I hate whitecoats that use chloroform. I sat up and blinked. Dang bright lights. I took a quick survey of myself. Everything was healed. I suddenly got the feeling that someone, not Stone, was in my mind and I quickly threw up my mental defenses. There was a rattling beside me and I saw the little blonde (Angel, I remembered) girl from the Flock.

Wait. The Flock? That meant—sure enough, they were all in cages, including the dog from the Institute. But no Chad. Ha. I knew we couldn't trust him.

"Who are you?" the little brown chick asked.

"Who wants to know?" I countered.

Blondie finally spoke up. "Why are you here?"

"Ain't that the million dollar question?" I rolled my eyes.

A couple of minutes later, I faced the door, snarling. Chad was coming. I could smell him. Literally. A second later he walked in.

"Chad," I growled. He looked (down) at me in surprise. "You're lucky I'm still in this cage."

He paled, while the others gave me weird looks.

"Still?" the littlest boy asked.

I pointedly ignored him, and I felt Stone's mind stir.

"She's gonna wake up soon, Chad. She'll be so happy to see you." My voice dripped with venom.

I mentally locked the door as he went for it. "Sorry, you're not getting' outta here."

I quickly made my way to the farthest corner of my cage away from Stone. Dude, when she gets mad, she can be really, really scary. Almost as scary as me. Almost.


	7. Sweet Revenge

**Sweet **

**Revenge**

**~Stone~**

_Pain._ Oh God, I'd like to take apart whoever named this a head_ache_. I moaned and screwed open my eyes, Tempest's gentle mind probe feeding me scenes of the events since I'd passed out. Great. We were back at the School.

_Mornin' sunshine,_ Tempest said, sounding as bad as I felt.

"N no more; makes head hurt . . ." I groaned, then my eyes landed on Chad. Free. As in _not_ in a cage. Instantly I went hot all over. Bruised wings, butt, and all, I sat up and walked through the cage.

"You set us up!" I snarled, stumbling a bit as my cramped muscles screamed. Behind Chad, across from Tempest and me, I saw the other avian hybrids. You know, Max and them. Max was staring at me with her eyebrows raised. Why she was here, I really didn't care.

"I trusted you Chad!"

"I didn't know they would be there! I'm sorry Stone!" Chad's face was the nasty beige color of cold oatmeal and getting paler. My face stared back at me from the mirror behind him, and I narrowed my storm-gray eyes even more. For a moment, I wondered idly where my backpack full of dynamite was. Then it hit me: My Posters.

_Someone's gonna pay!_

Loud crashing and pinging made me turn around. Tempest, unsurprisingly, had made the bars of her cage shatter across the room.

"_That'll_ be fun to clean up," I remarked dryly before rounding on Chad again. But as I lunged, I felt strong, wiry arms grab me from behind.

"Tempest! Let me go!" I ground out. I expanded and passed right through her.

She looked at me with her trademark you-are-so-dead glare.

"You should feel relieved. I could have condensed and let you find out what being Tempest dust feels like," I sneered.

Tempest smirked. "I wouldn't. You would fall through the hole you blew in the floor. Maybe I'd drop a dynamite stick down there too."

"You're a lot quicker than you look then, because do you see our backpacks anywhere?" I snapped. "Now get out of my way so I can kill him!" _For the record, I haven't blown a hole in the ground in three months!_

I took another step forward, but a giant metal table slid, screeching, across the room, crashing to a stop against one of the Flock's cages, blocking me from Chad. I glared at the mutant, and she glared back. Nudge; that was her name. Not that it mattered.

Smirking. I walked through the table, stood with my midsection floating through it, and faced down Chad. Eyes wide, he hid behind another table. Like _that_ was going to stop me! I flashed out my gray and black wings, the tips nearly brushing the ceiling. My eyes narrowed, blood boiling. I had him trapped! Tempest's lips were clenched together. I could feel her barely suppressed amusement through our link, and I nearly busted my gut right there.

The lights dimmed, courtesy of Tempest, casting a freaky light on my gray wings, transforming me from seriously pissed Stone to the Angel of Death. I almost cracked up.

I flicked my hand at the table and looked at Tempest pointedly. Still smirking, she moved it out of my way. Loud voices and thundering footsteps snapped me from angry to battle mode. Six whitecoats burst in, two holding baseball bats. I cackled at their naivety. Max rattled her bars, frustration in her eyes. I didn't move. This was payback for the Flock telling us to run away from the Institute!

I roundhoused a fat whitecoat into a table. Squealing like a girl, he dropped his bat and landed heavily on the table, shattering several glass phials filled with multi-colored liquids. Fatty screamed again as the liquids began eating away his skin. _Gross._ That'll teach them to play with acid!

Tempest smashed two whitecoats' heads together and they crumpled, senseless. I unlocked my cage and shoved the shortest whitecoat into it, bolting it back. Together, Tempest and I slammed the last two against the wall. Silence fell. Smirking, I helped Tempest unlock the other cages.

Max tumbled out, looking livid. "Why didn't you let us fight?"

"You're welcome," I grumbled, kicking a female whitecoat's prone figure out of the way.

Chad came out of an adjoining room, our bulging backpacks in his hands, as well as a slightly smaller red one Max grabbed. I snatched mine from his hands, a low growl rumbling in my throat. Tempest flicked her fingers at her pack and it zoomed out of Chad's hands to hers. Tempest's red eyes were narrowed so small they looked like slits of Hades dominating an otherwise innocent looking face.

"What's in those?" Nudge asked as we made our way out, pointing to our bulging backpacks.

"Dynamite," Tempest and I answered together. _Posters too,_ but I kept that to myself, smoothly shielding it from Tempest.

The youngest boy's bright blue eyes lit up. "Can I have some?" he asked excitedly.

"No!" we snarled, unleashing simultaneous death glares. Yeow. Poor kid.

The kid, Gazzy, cowered in fear, and that's when it hit me: The Flock didn't scare easily. If we had managed to scare one of the we had power. But not the kind of power that is easily welded.

A blaring alarm erupted as we broke through a door and I cursed, throwing my backpack onto my back as I ran. A whitecoat tried to stop us, but I decked him. Too easy.

Finally! All nine of us burst outside, taking in gulps of fresh air. Even with the alarms blaring and the barbed wire all around us, the dawn was breathtaking.

Max and the Flock took off, veering southwest. Tempest and I ran forward, but when Tempest took off, I stopped and looked back. Sure, Chad was working for the enemy, but I'd seen him fighting a whitecoat earlier until Tempest got a hold of the whitecoat too. He didn't deserve to die here any more than we did. He ran towards me and I stretched out my hand.

Then he jumped up before he reached m and my jaw dropped as cream-colored wings seemingly exploded from his back. I was too stunned to bother getting POed. That would come later.

I took off, lit several dynamite sticks, flung them into the garage full of big cars and big gas tanks, and flew like heck. I sped right past Chad, enjoying the sweet explosions behind me.

"Later _much_," I said, angling after the others.


	8. The Getaway

**The**

**Getaway**

**~Tempest~**

Chad can fly? What the crap! I watched in shock as he took off. Stone threw several sticks of dynamite at the school before they joined me. In the distance, I saw the Flock waiting for us.

_Stone..?_

_ Yeah, Temp?_

_ I think we should stay with Max and the others tonight._

_ Huh? Why?_

_ Little Blond Chick's a mind reader and she can tell us his real intentions._

There was a pause.

_TEMPEST HAD A RATIONAL THOUGHT! APOCALYPSE!_

I winced. "That was loud, Stoney, especially for a thought.

She chuckled. "Hehe. Oops. Sorry."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Suuure ya are."

"Whatever. Well, let's go catch up with the Flock."

Our little trio caught up to the others. Introductions went around and the nine of us plus Total the Talking and Flying Dog found a place to land. Stone and Chad went to find food. Together. After she tried to kill him. Weird. But they came back alive. With no injuries. Creepy.

During dinner (if it could even be called that) I noticed how much Max and Stone looked alike. Hmmm…. Anyways, I had fourth watch so I hit the sack. During my watch, I saw Stone storming off before taking flight.

"Stone! Wait!" Chad called, following her.

I quickly woke Fang up before following them. Hey, I may not like Chad that much but something was wrong with my best friend and sister-like figure. And I intended to find out what it was.


End file.
